Chapter 2: Cold walls and bitter vows

( Aria's point of view )

I walked into the Moretti's den expecting it to be a cage but it was actually a house filled with ghosts. Then, there was a man who looked at me like he saw a virus.

We rode in an SUV to the Moretti estate. In the car beside me, was Dante Moretti sat like a statue. It was difficult for him to even look at me once since my father’s guards shoved me into the backseat. He just stared at his phone, tapping the screen.

I looked down at my hands. I was still wearing the same green dress from the wedding. It was wrinkled now, a mocking reminder of the very night my life had been traded away like a piece of property. My thigh holster was gone. My father’s men had stripped me of all my weapons before we left. They really thought they had disarmed me. They didn't know about the micro-chip hidden in the hollow heel of my designer shoe they didn't dare to touch.

"You can stop glaring at the floor, Aria," Dante said with a heavy voice. "It won’t open up and swallow you, yunno."

"I’m not looking for an exit," I lied, turning my head to look at him. "I’m just wondering which room in your house is the easiest to burn down."

Dante looked at me with dark, angry eyes. "Try it, and you’ll find out how fast my security team can move. You’re not in your father’s house anymore. You’re in mine. And in this house, you follow my every rule."

"I don't follow anyone’s rules," I replied sharply.

The SUV slowed down as we approached a massive iron gate that was swung open slowly a second after we approached.

We drove into the fortress.

The car stopped and the door was opened by a man who looked like he spent his weekends breaking bricks with his forehead.

Dante stepped out without saying a word, and I followed sharply on my high heels.

The waiting room was even colder than it was outside. Everything about the house was perfect even though it was empty. No people at all I thought.

"Take her bags to the west wing," Dante ordered a maid who just appeared out of nowhere.

"Wait," I said, stepping forward. "West wing? Where are you staying?"

Dante turned to me, with a cruel smile on his face, touching his lips. "The east wing. Did you think we were going to cuddle, Aria? This is a business arrangement. My uncle and your father want a merger. They didn't say I had to share a bed with a Valenti snake like you."

"Good," I said with a deep breath. "I’d rather sleep in a pit of actual snakes than next to you."

"Don't worry," he stepped closer. "I have no interest in touching you. That kiss at the wedding was a mistake I’m already paying for. From now on, we stay out of each other's way. You play the part of the happy fiancée when the cameras are on, and the rest of the time, you stay in your wing and keep your mouth shut."

He turned to walk away, but I wasn't finished. I hadn't survived twenty-one years in the Valenti household by being quiet.

"If this is just business," I called out, "then I want a contract."

Dante stopped for a moment and turned slowly with his eyebrows raised. "A contract?"

"I want rules. In writing," I said with my arms crossed. "Rule one: No physical contact unless we are in public. Rule two: You don't ask about my business, and I don't ask about yours. Rule three: You give me access to the house library and a secure internet connection."

Dante walked back toward me and stopped so close I could see every color of his eyes. "Internet? Why would a mafia princess need a secure connection? Planning to shop for more dresses you don't need?"

I felt a rush of adrenaline. He had no idea he was talking to "THE GHOST." That I could drain his bank accounts while he slept. "I get bored easily," I said keeping my face as though I was bored. "And I don't like being watched."

"You’re always being watched here," Dante whispered, leaning down till his lips were inches from my ear. "Every camera, every guard, every wire in this house reports to me. You want a contract? Fine. I’ll have my lawyers draft one. But I’m adding a rule of my own."

"And what’s that?"

"If you try to contact your father or any Valenti soldiers without my permission, I will lock you in the cellar. And believe me, the cellar isn't as nice as the west wing."

He pulled back, searching my eyes for a sign of fear. I didn't give him any. I just stared back with a set jaw.

"Deal," I said.

Dante hand signaled the maid. "Show her to her room. Make sure she has everything she needs. Except a way out, of course."

I followed the maid up a staircase then a hallway that led to the main west wing. It was beautiful, but it felt like a museum to me. My room was huge, I could see the rear of the gardens. It was the kind of room for Cinderellas, Snow Whites, Princesses and Barbies, what every girl dreamed of, but all I couldn't get my eyes off of were the locks on the windows and the camera lens tucked into the corner of the ceiling.

As soon as the maid left and closed the door, I kicked off my shoes, sat on the edge of the bed and felt the hollow heel of my right shoe. I pressed a tiny hidden latch, and the heel popped open. Inside was a slim, silver micro-laptop I had put in earlier, a custom build that was no larger than a smartphone but had the processing power of a military server.

I opened it and felt comfort instantly.

I needed to check my accounts. I had been funneling money out of my father’s hidden offshore accounts for three good years. I was close... so close to the five-million-dollar mark. That was what I needed to gain freedom from my father and this gangster world. Once I had that, I could buy a new identity and a new life in a place where the names like Valenti and Moretti meant nothing.

But as I logged into my secure server, a red warning light started flashing on the screen.

Access Denied. Account Frozen.

I felt my blood stop. I tried again. Access Denied.

I panicked and typed in a bypass code. The screen buffered for a few seconds before a message appeared. The message wasn't from a bank. It was a text file.

Did you think I wouldn't notice, Little Ghost?

I froze. The message was from my father. He had known all along that I was the one stealing from him. He hadn't stopped me because he was waiting for the perfect moment to use it as leverage.

"You owe me four point eight million, Aria" the message continued. Consider your marriage to Dante Moretti your first payment. If you try to run, or if you fail to marry him on Sunday, I will not only kill your friend Elena, i will tell Dante exactly who has been robbing the Moretti family for the last six months.

The laptop slipped from my fingers. I slumped back onto the pillows with air leaving my lungs in a long, shaky exhale.

I was trapped. I wasn't just a bride; I was a hostage. If Dante found out I was the hacker who had stolen his shipping manifests and three million dollars from his private fund, he wouldn't just lock me in a cellar. He would kill me.

A knock on the door made me jump. I shoved the micro-laptop under the pillow and arranged my hair.

"Who is it?" I called out with a steady voice.

The door opened, and Dante stood there. He had changed out of his suit and was wearing a simple black t-shirt that showed off the tattoos on his muscular arms.

"Dinner is served," he said. "My uncle is here. He wants to see the happy couple."

I stood up, adjusting my dress. "Give me five minutes to look human."

Dante didn't leave. He leaned on the doorframe, watching me with a strange expression. "Why were you crying?"

"I wasn't crying," I interrupted, turning away from him.

"Your eyes are red, and you look like you’ve seen a ghost," he said, stepping into the room.

"I told you, I’m just tired," I replied, walking past him toward the bathroom.

As I passed him, he reached out and grabbed my arm. It wasn't a rough grip, but it was firm. He turned me to face him, eyeball to eyeball. For a second, there seemed to be no coldness in his face.

"Listen, Aria," he said with a quiet voice. "I know you didn't choose this. I didn't either. But if we’re going to survive this week without killing each other, you need to be honest with me. Is your father planning something?"

I looked at him, and for a moment, I wanted to tell him everything, including that I was The Ghost, that my father was blackmailing me, and that we were both pawns in a much bigger game.

But then I remembered who he was. A fucking Moretti. The man whose money I had stolen.

"My father is always planning something," I said, pulling my arm away. "But tonight, his only plan is to make sure I don't run away. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a performance to give."

I walked into the bathroom and shut the door, leaning my back against the wood. I looked at myself in the mirror. I saw the fear in my eyes.

I had only seven days until the wedding which meant seven days to figure out how to unfreeze my accounts, satisfy my father, and keep Dante from finding out the truth.

I feared for myself.

A single breath from Dante Moretti could bring my whole world crashing down.

I splashed cold water on my face and tried to put on confidence. I walked out of the bathroom, went through the bedroom and followed Dante down to the dining room.

The dinner was a nightmare filled with fake smiles and threats. Silvio Moretti, Dante’s uncle, spent the whole time talking about "blood loyalty" and "expanding the empire." He looked at me like I was a prize horse.

Dante played his part perfectly. He held my hand on the table. To anyone else, it looked romantic. To me, it felt like a handcuff.

"You two make a striking couple," Silvio said, sipping his red wine. "The Valenti fire and the Moretti ice. It’s a very, very, powerful combination."

"We’re very, very, excited, Uncle," Dante said with a flat voice. He squeezed my hand slightly. "Aren't we, Aria?"

"Thrilled," I said forcing a smile.

After dinner, Silvio finally left. Dante walked me back toward the stairs. At the base of the staircase, he stopped.

"You did well," he said. "My uncle is convinced."

"Great. Can I go back to my prison now?"

Dante sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s not a prison, Aria. It’s protection."

"Protection from what?"

"From everyone," he said with a dark tone. "Including your own family. Don't think for a second that your father wouldn't kill you if it served his interests."

I knew he was right, which only made the weight in my chest feel heavier. I started to walk up the stairs, but Dante’s voice stopped me.

"Aria?"

I turned back.

"I had my tech team check the Wi-Fi logs," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Someone tried to access an encrypted server from this wing ten minutes after we arrived. Do you know anything about that?"

My heart dropped. I had been sloppy and so worried about my father that I forgot Dante’s security was some of the best in the world.

"I told you," I said, barely whispering. "I was bored. I was just trying to find some music."

Dante didn't look convinced. He took a step toward the stairs and placed his eyes on mine. "If I find out you’re hiding something, Aria... if I find out you’re working for your father against me..."

"Then what?" I challenged, my heart hammering.

"Then I’ll show you why they call me the Butcher’s Son," he said with coldness in his eyes. Tenfold of that I've ever seen.

I turned and ran up the stairs, not stopping until I was inside my room with the door locked. I leaned against the door, gasping.

I was out of time and had to find a way to get Dante on my side, or find a way to kill him before he found the truth. But as I remembered the way his hand felt in mine at dinner, a terrifying thought crossed my mind.

What if the only thing more dangerous than his hate... was the way my heartbeat increased when he touched me?